Pulse of life Ancient folk music is still whipping up a frenzy

When Antonio Castrignanò listens to pizzica, he hears much more than tambourines and drums.

- Andrea Valentino

"This music really feels like a dream," is how the musician and composer puts it. "It gives dignity to the sacrifices my people made for their own freedom, to no longer be inferior to anyone."

It's an emotion other natives of Salento would doubtless understand. Birthed in village squares and olive groves, right at the heel of the Italian boot, pizzica acted for centuries as the region's daily soundtrack.

Nowadays, however, pizzica has transcended its peasant roots - and nowhere is that clearer than at the Notte della Taranta. At the same time, the music has become known far beyond Salento, its fevered rhythms common at weddings and fashion shows. Yet musicians like Castrignanò worry that the deep heritage of pizzica is being lost.

Pizzica has a long history. Possibly related to the ancient cult of Dionysus, by the 18th century it was being performed for visiting dignitaries. Like other tarantelle, a family of south Italian dances, legend has it that dancing the pizzica could cure women bitten by tarantulas. That certainly explains its trance-like intensity, with violins, guitars, accordions and singers all charging along at 100bpm, while dancers whirl alongside. No wonder Alessia Tondo, a vocalist in the Canzoniere Grecanico Salentino, characterises the pizzica as a "visceral rhythm".